One More Second Chance
by tishseven
Summary: Dick Grayson is performing with Boston Brand aka Deadman in a special one night only show. Why does Batman have such a bad feeling about it? Can Dick solve his own murder or will Bruce and Boston kill each other first. Rated T for language and Violence.
1. Chapter 1

A soft breeze carried the smell of cotton candy and elephant shit over the midway. It did little to ease Bruce's anxiety. If it were Batman strolling past the carnival games and concession stands he would have been able to ignore the human sense most strongly linked to memory and kept the emotion it triggered under control. But it was Bruce Wayne who moved through the crowd and it was Bruce Wayne who remembered.

The night the Flying Grayson's were murdered was neither his first nor last trip to the circus but it was the one that stood out the most in his mind. He found he could never visit a carnival or big top without reliving the tragedy. He didn't realize that he had stopped walking and was staring at the late summer sunset pensively.

"Master Bruce, I am compelled to point out that such heavy brooding in public may be compromising to your identity. At the very least a less depressing facial expression would go a long way toward blending in with our current surroundings, "Alfred gestured to the smiling families, carnies and performers around them.

Bruce sighed and began walking again, knowing Alfred was referring to the conversation he had with Dick several days before. He hadn't forbidden Dick from participating in this… stunt. He had merely stated his disapproval and his concern that performing in public may rouse suspicion regarding Dick's Nightwing persona.

"It's not just himself he puts at risk when he steps into the spotlight like this," he said as they neared the main tent. "The costume alone is a red flag."

Bruce nodded toward a colorful poster that graced the side of the big top. It pictured two men swinging from a trapeze. One was dressed in a full red leotard and a white mask that resembled a death's head. The other had on a similar outfit in blue but his face was not hidden and he grinned broadly at the world while large block letters proclaimed:

Hills Bros. Circus Proudly Presents

The Amazing Deadman –Aerialist Extraordinaire

Performing Alongside

Richard Grayson

The Last of the Legendary Flying Grayson's

One Show Only

"Master Dick's background is not unknown, sir. I doubt anyone will think it odd that he should wear his father's costume tonight," said Alfred, well aware that was not the only reason for the other man's dark mood.

"It's still a risk," Bruce huffed. " Besides I don't like Brand."

Alfred glanced at the man in red on the poster. Deadman was stage name of Boston Brand who had recently inherited the one ring circus and was determined to make it succeed. He was also an old friend of the Grayson family. Since their short meeting a few hours ago Alfred suspected he would not be such a favorite in the Wayne home.

"In any case sir, I do believe they are getting ready to begin. Shall we find our seats?" Bruce knew that this was not a request and followed his valet to the turnstile at the entrance without argument. The sudden roar of the crowd and the roaming spotlights were disorientating at first but they quickly recovered and found their seats.

When Bruce looked into the empty center ring he imagined he could see a small boy, hunched over and crying as if his heart were breaking. He looked away and it was gone. That boy was now a man but it still troubled Bruce to see him in any pain. Since that night he had gone to great lengths to keep it from happening again.

Without shifting his gaze he leaned toward the man next to him and said, "I worry, Alfred."

"I know you do, sir," Alfred said patting his hand. "But it will mean the world to him that you did come tonight."

Bruce raised his eyebrows but before he could respond the lights dimmed and the ringmaster's voice boomed throughout the tent.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, boys and girls, welcome to the Hills Brothers Circus of Wonders!"

Bruce and Alfred rose to their feet with the rest of the crowd and added their applause to the hundreds of patrons. Bruce even managed a small, sideways smile at Alfred but inside he could still not shake the feeling of foreboding that had been nagging him all afternoon. Dick was in the circus again and, even though it was only for one night, Bruce was afraid it would somehow cause the young man pain again.

It was a superstitious thought but still…Bruce Wayne would be happier when Dick Grayson left the flying to Nightwing. At least then Batman could keep his eye on him.


	2. Chapter 2

_**BANG BANG BANG**_

"Still in there, kid? I said you could borrow my trailer not keep it until the next millennium. Come on out Buddy and don't tell me you've been combing your hair this whole time, neither."

Inside Dick Grayson snorted trying to stifle his laughter. He didn't want to encourage more insults or worse yet, humor from the man waiting outside. Not that it mattered. When he failed to get a response Boston Brand took to rattling the latch on the door.

"I'm coming, I'm coming, Boston. Jeez give me a minute," Dick yelled.

"Ain't got all night, kid. We got a hungry crowd out there, I can feel it," Boston flicked his cigarette away, watched it land and made sure each tiny ember burnt itself out. "Hey in case I forget to mention it, thanks Dick.I mean it. We would have been in a bad spot tonight without you. Half the troop has got this damned bug. Not just the performers either. We had to set up today three guys short. All of them laid out in their trailers, puking their guts out and useless. "

Finally the door opened and Dick emerged grinning from ear to ear in one of his father's old costumes.

"Ta daaa. How do I look?"

In the dim light of electric lantern that was clipped to the side of the trailer Boston thought he could have been looking at Johnny Grayson himself. It was almost like seeing a ghost. He shivered a little in evening breeze even though it was still a warm night. He got over it quick though, that kid's smile was infectious.

"Hey how about that, huh? Your very picture of your old man Dickey."

Dick's grin grew wider, "Really? You think so? Oh and no thanks are necessary, Boston. Dad always said that you were a real standup guy. So what was that big favor you did for him back in the day anyway?"

"Hey that's between me," Boston pointed to the big white D on the front of his costume and then to the sky, "and your pops. So don't worry about it. Just because I asked you to do this tonight doesn't mean I'm trying to collect on a debt or anything. You know that right?"

"I know. Don't get so serious big guy." Dick held up his hands in mock surrender. "Just don't forget that you owe me one now."

Boston wrapped an arm around Dick's neck in a light headlock and began dragging him toward the performer's entrance at the back of the big top. The echoes of their laughter danced in the night air.

A member of the crew watched them approach and waited for Boston's signal to lift the flap near the bottom of the tent so the performers could slide under unnoticed by the crowd.

Boston paused and turned to Dick, "Don't forget we do things my way tonight kid. We start at the top on the platform. When you hear your cue start right into your swing. The spotlight will catch us there for the double double loop. "

"You got it, boss. I'm ready."

Normally it was part of the act to have the acrobat's climb to the top platform in full view of the audience. It added to the suspense. But normal wasn't Boston's style. He had told Dick that he liked to get right to it. Leap into the spotlight before the crowd knew what hit them. It created mystique, he said. The irony was not lost on Dick and he wondered if Bruce realized that he and Boston actually had something in common. It may have been for two very different reasons but they both felt strongly about the image they projected. One as Deadman, the other as Batman.

Boston nodded, "All set Benny."

Once inside they were careful to move slowly and stay out of the spotlight as they made their way their positions. The act was well planned so that they would have plenty of time to get into place. The Hills Bros. clown show provided a brightly colored and loud distraction in the center ring. No one was looking at the darkened sides of the tent as Dick grasped the silken rope ladder with both arms and pulled himself up to the first rung. He couldn't help himself and quickly scanned the audience before continuing.

"Looking for Wayne, Kid?" Boston said in a low voice behind him.

"Yeah. Hey I know you guys didn't get off on the right foot this afternoon but he was trying to help."

"Listen Dick, I knew your family and you know the business. We help each other out and that's the nature of the beast. But I'll be damned if I need some rich guy's charity to…"

Boston stopped when he noticed the grin had slipped from Dick's face.

"Okay I'm sorry. He means a lot to you I get it. I dunno why but I get it. I'll play nice if our paths ever cross again. Will that make you happy?"

He was rewarded with a smirk that didn't belie the happiness underneath.

"Good. Now get moving and don't screw up," he said but Dick was already halfway to the top.

Boston shook his head and slipped between the panels of a rolling set piece that would carry him unseen across the center and to the rope at the opposite side of the tent.

After Dick had reached the top and climbed out onto the tiny platform he paused and took a deep breath. He still had a few minutes to give Boston time to get to his side and let the clowns make their exit. Despite the height and the darkness he found himself trying to make out Bruce or Alfred in the crowd.

He very much wanted Bruce to see him perform tonight. He knew Bruce thought he was jeopardizing the mission. And even though he couldn't admit it to Boston he had been just as pissed off when Bruce had offered to pay for the circus' losses. Like he was trying to buy Dick out of the show. He had never expected that. Not from Bruce.

He had been acting strange ever since Dick first brought up the whole circus thing.

But none of that changed the fact that he still wanted, almost needed Bruce to be here. For all that Bruce had taught him this was one thing that was entirely his. He probably wouldn't get another chance to show off for his surrogate father but it was more than that. He wasn't just a soldier tonight. There were no lives that had to be saved, no villains to apprehend, no distractions.

And maybe he would be proud. Not because an objective had been met but maybe this way Bruce would see him. Really see him

He was not the only son in history who would seek his father's approval over and over again.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, boys and girls, please direct your eyes skyward…" The voice of the ringmaster interrupted his thoughts.

Dick grasped the bar with one hand and got ready…

Okay. Now

Just before he stepped out into the air something in the crowd caught his eye_. Does that guy have a_ _hook for a hand__**? And**__ a gun? Nah, must be seeing things_. Then he let all his thoughts fly away so that his muscles and gravity could do their job without waiting for his brain to catch up. He was dimly aware of a blur of red rushing toward him as he began to spin and spin and spin on a cushion of air.

_**BANG**_

He expected to feel his body straighten as he reached for the bar but instead the world exploded in a bright flash of pain. Then he was falling down and and down and down.


	3. Chapter 3

One second after he heard the gunshot Bruce Wayne was on his feet. As Dick Grayson was falling through the air he was halfway to the ring. When the body slammed full force into the sawdust floor he had reached the ground level. And before the dust settled Bruce had the young man in his arms.

He's all bloody and …dead? Dick is dead? Bruce felt his world rock. Batman would have checked Nightwing's vitals, demanded a status report which surely would have roused the young hero from unconsciousness, and swiftly returned to the batcave for much needed medical assistance and a safety lecture.

But Bruce Wayne found he could not summon the Batman and this was not Nightwing. It was Dick and Dick was already dead. Unacceptable, his mind whispered and he clung to that thought as tightly as he did to the body he was holding. For several moments there was nothing else.

Slowly he became aware of someone kneeling beside him moaning, "Oh god…kid…Dick…what happened…oh fuck."

It was Brand.

Bruce felt a white hot rage grow inside him. This was Brand's fault. Dick would not be here if Brand hadn't coerced him. Bruce's money wasn't good enough. Brand had to have Dick. And now Brand's circus had taken Dick from him. He gently lowered the boy to ground, folding his arms over the small chest wound.

Then Bruce stood up and launched himself at Brand.

Boston heard the familiar crunch of his own nose being broken. He had spent almost as much time in the boxing ring as he had in the circus ring and reacted instinctively. He brought one fist up to cover his already damaged face and swung g the other one in a wide roundhouse that connected directly with Bruce Wayne's jaw. Wayne didn't appear to notice but it gave Boston the moment he needed to collect himself.

He got to his feet and put both hands up in front of him. "Wayne, you don't really want to do this now…" he tried gently as he could. But Wayne kept coming.

Chaos reigned around them. Hordes of people were rushing for the exit. Parents holding screaming children, husbands ushering their weeping wives away from the bloody scene and individuals who were simply in a state a panic were all pushing in the same direction. Members of the Hills Bros. Circus were attempting to either reach their boss to rescue him from the raving lunatic who was attacking him or the young acrobat who had fallen. Alfred was fighting his way through the crowd not knowing which of his masters he was going to but driven by instinct to get to one of them.

Dick Grayson, dying but not yet dead slowly opened his eyes.

He saw Bruce struggling with a man who had the face of death. His fading mind did not recognize Boston Brand or remember Deadman. He wondered dimly if Death had come for him but he was not afraid. His confidence in Bruce held fast even as his body was shutting down.

Somehow Bruce detected a slight movement from the floor. With a cry he fell to his knees beside the body, not allowing himself to hope.

Boston wiped the blood from his nose on the sleeve of his costume. He began rounding up his people trying to quell the storm that had so suddenly descended upon them. The horrors of this night would haunt him for a long time to come but at least right now he had his circus to take care of.

Bruce and Dick looked into each other's eyes. Dick tried to smile but the darkness was rolling over him like the tide. The last that he knew was that death was gone and he was in his guardian's arms, safe and loved as he drifted away.

Dick Grayson had passed on.

Bruce Wayne was not so lucky. He was still alive.

His head was bowed. He did not feel Alfred's hands on his shoulders. He didn't even hear the anguished cry that was torn from his own lips when he felt the last breath and then no more.

Bruce Wayne gathered his boy to him and cried like his heart was broken.

The black tide went back out as Nightwing sat up and opened his eyes.

"Whoa," he said taking in his surroundings.

He was sitting on some kind of a rock suspended in space not unlike the trapeze platform. There was one big difference though. Nightwing couldn't make out any support structures holding it up. He was sitting on a rock floating in space. All around him odd glittery stars hung in a twilight emptiness that went on endlessly in all directions.

"Where the fuck am I?" he wondered aloud.

"You are here with me. In the infinite," a female voice answered startling him.

Nightwing was on his feet in an instant. A second ago he had been alone and now he was face to face with a beautiful if strange looking woman. Her long black hair and purple sari floated around her as if she were lying in a pool of water. Her teal skin seemed to twinkle in time with the stars around them. She narrowed her golden eyes as she looked Nightwing up and down.

"You are not Boston Brand," she said with a strange look. Her facial muscles couldn't seem to figure out how to look surprised. As if she had forgotten how.

"Uh…no but I totally know where he's staying if you want me to go get him for you," Dick said giving her his most charming smile. It didn't work.

"I am the goddess Rama Kushna. She who brings balance," she said as though she were trying to start over. "You are not Boston Brand!"

"Riiight. That part I know but it would help if you could tell me where I am. See the last thing I remember is having some dream where Bruce was fighting a duel with death like for my honor or something ," he smirked well aware that the humor was a defense mechanism but unable to help himself," and before that everything is kinda a bla-…" Suddenly several images flashed through Dick's mind. The trapeze, the hook, the fall…

"Aw shit, lady," he said looking up at the goddess who had started to levitate. "Am I…Am I dead?"


	4. Chapter 4

The goddess Rama Kushna was losing her patience with Nightwing.

"So let me see if I got this. You were expecting Boston to show up because he was supposed to die on the trapeze tonight. Instead I'm here which means that fate somehow fucked up which has never happened before so even though you are an all-knowing goddess you don't know shit right now. Right?"

Nightwing paced as he spoke, back and forth supported by a rock floating in the infinite. The goddess found the movement almost as irritating as his incessant talking.

"You over simplify mortal," she snapped. "The fates do not just _fuck up_ and your tiny mind cannot begin to comprehend my vast knowledge."

"Oh good, because I have some questions for you then. Why am I here? Why am I dressed like Nightwing when I died as Dick Grayson? What happens now? Do I have to live here with you forever because you're not really my type. Don't get me wrong your very attractive but I usually go for redheads…"

"SILENCE," She roared. Rama Kushna began to grow in size until it seemed she would completely fill the infinite.

Nightwing stopped talking.

Rama Kushna sighed and shrunk herself back to the size of a mortal woman and approached Dick. She caressed his cheek with her hand and began speaking as though to a small child.

"I am the goddess Rama Kushna. I bring balance. Boston Brand, my champion was supposed to be here standing before me as he has done countless times before and will countless times again. You are here Instead but your life should not have ended. You do not need balance. You are balance, light to the shadow. There is nothing I can teach you."

She looked at him so mournfully that Dick almost felt he should comfort her. "So if you don't need me then can't you just…send me back? You are a goddess," he smiled. "Can't you do whatever you want?"

She shook her head, "Yes and No. I know you cannot understand this but in the realm of infinite possibilities what I want is not relative to what should be."

"So that's more of a no, then?"

"I cannot make you my champion because you are not. This has nothing to do with the scope of my power, it is only what is. I cannot…" Her eyes changed then. Nightwing saw the condescending sorrow in them become something else. Something that might have been mischief.

"I can charge you with a task, however. Perhaps you are not _my_ champion but you do appear before as _a_ champion. In death you have retained your true form even though you crossed over while in another. You still may serve me, Nightwing and in doing so it is possible to resume your path."

She laughed and clapped her hands in a way that made her seem like a very young girl.

"What do I have to do?" Nightwing would sort through the metaphysical shit later. Right now he knew he was being offered a chance and he was going to take it before the goddess of balance had another mood swing.

"You are ready? Excellent! But first listen carefully. I will only speak this once to you. I will send you back so that you may bring your murderer to justice. In doing so you will cross paths with Boston Brand once again. You must convince him to recognize his true destiny. It must be a choice made of his own free will to accept death if he is to receive the gift I have for him."

"Wait a minute; you want me to convince Boston to die in my place? No way, lady. I don't care what was supposed to go down. I won't ask a friend to sacrifice himself for me. Especially not the way it happened. I…I can't." The force of emotion in the young man's voice reached Rama Kushna, goddess though she may be.

However, it changed nothing. "Don't be a fool. Sacrifice? I am prepared to give Boston Brand his dearest wish. To be something greater than a man. A second chance to become the champion he was meant to be. To deny him this would be to sentence him to an existence as a lost soul. Do you presume to believe yourself noble for this? You must do as I say!"

"And if I don't?"

"Then Boston Brand will still die one day and he will become what you yourself will be long before that. A forgotten shade here in the infinite with no destiny, no hope and no more chances. So what will it be Nightwing?"

Stiffly Nightwing nodded once.

The infinite opened up beneath him. A swirling darkness surrounded him as he felt himself pulled into it. The last thing he saw was the goddess smiling at him.

"Bring me my champion, Nightwing. Do no forget!"


	5. Chapter 5

_**SMACK**_

Nightwing peeled a white plastic bag from his face and let the wind carry it away again. A moment ago he had been standing in a place Rama Kushna called the infinite and now found himself in Robinson Park looking at the skeletal remains of the Hills Bros. Circus.

All the color and light had been packed up with haste leaving only the bare bones of the circus to be torn down and carted away at daybreak. Hills Bros. was even smaller than Haley's circus where he had grown up but In the dark the big top looked like some great hulking beast squatting in the grass.

I died here, Nightwing thought. The empty grounds left him feeling an overwhelming loneliness that was both sad and unnerving. The breeze picked up again and Nightwing thought he heard a voice on the wind calling to him. The little hairs on the back of his neck stood up.

He felt foolish when he realized it was coming from the camp where the performer's personal trailers were parked. Nightwing followed the sound of the voice but took care to stay behind the last row of mobile homes. He didn't want to be seen until he knew who was speaking.

As he approached Boston Brand's quarters he became aware of a second voice much lower than the first. It was familiar but there was something…wrong about it. Peering around the corner he glimpsed Batman standing just beyond a pool of light that spilled out from the half open door where Boston was l standing still wearing his Deadman costume minus the mask.

"Look I'll tell ya one more time like I told the cops. We had a couple of fill-ins on the midway today. Why don't you go track them down? All of my people have been searched and they got nothing. They are scared and upset and they don't need you breathing down their necks…"

"It has to be here Brand. Dick Grayson was shot with a rifle. No one was seen leaving here with a rifle.

"Batman," Nightwing whispered from around the corner.

"A rifle? Huh, nobody mentioned that one to me. Look just hang on a second. I'll be right back."

Once Boston had shut the door behind him Nightwing stepped out in plain sight.

"Batman", he hissed louder. The Dark Knight looked around slowly but didn't answer. As Nightwing got closer he gasped. Despite the cowl he could see Bruce's face had changed. There was a grimness there that superseded any human expression in the hard lines of his mouth.

Boston Brand stepped into the darkness now wearing jeans and black hooded sweatshirt. He was holding flashlight.

"Let's go," he said starting across the field to the midway.

"Where?" Batman didn't move.

"I'll show ya," Brand called back without stopping.

Batman turned on his heel just as Nightwing reached out a hand to him, "Hey wait." The cape flared with the movement and would have brushed Nightwing's hand had he been alive. Instead it passed right through his outstretched fingers.

Nightwing didn't move for several minutes. Then he threw back his head laughing. He cupped his hands to his mouth and addressed the sky.

"Okay Rama you got oldest trick in the book. I'm incorporeal right? Of course I am. I'm a fucking ghost. So you forgot to mention one thing all knowing goddess. How can I convince Boston Brand of anything if he can't see or hear me?" He was aware of the growing hysteria in his voice.

Hysteria was something Nightwing couldn't afford right now. He slowed his breathing and calmed his mind the way Batman had taught him when he was little more than a child. It still worked.

Then there was nothing left to do but follow Batman and Boston into the dark.

"Here she is," Boston was pointing his flashlight at a game booth with the words Sharp Shooter painted on the side when Nightwing finally caught up. Three targets were pinned to the inner wall. Brightly colored stuffed animals hung from plastic hooks and smiled grotesquely at the western style rifles lining the counter.

"These are all trick guns, see? They shoot plastic BB's and if the fish um…I mean ya know the customer hits the target he gets a prize. But I got a hunch…" Boston trailed off.

Batman was already inspecting the mock weapons. "Here," he said quietly, holding one with both hands. "This is it."

"Not wired down to the counter like the others. No scratches or dents either," Nightwing observed.

Batman looked at the gun in his hands for a long moment before smashing it back down on the counter, "Who was running this game today?"

"Like I said we had some fill ins today. Now usually Jimmy Mac is the operator on this one but he got the bug so I figured we'd just shut it down for the night.

"_Who was running this game!"_

"That's what I'm trying to tell you. I'm doing a quick walk through right before we open the gate for the night and I see some guy messing around in this booth. So I go check it out .He tells me Jimmy Mac got him to cover his shift. Now the thing is the guy's got a hook where his left hand should be. Shit like that spooks the fish-I mean ya know… customers. So I said this is the first I'm hearing of it and I told him to scram."

Nightwing suddenly remembered the moment on the platform right before his first and last swing. Hadn't he seen a man with a hook?

"Yes! Bruce, it was him." Nightwing shouted. "I'm a little bit glad that you can't hear because this sounds really stupid but the man with the hook did it!"

"You didn't think to mention this to police?" Batman rounded on Brand.

"There's a lot going on tonight. Give him a break. I even forgot," Nightwing said. He couldn't help it even if they couldn't hear him.

"I want to speak to this Jimmy Mac," Batman said stiffly

"Here I'll go with you and-"

"No."

"Batman I can-," Boston tried t argue.

"No," Batman turned on his heel and once again strode off in the opposite direction from Brand.

"Wait! You will LISTEN," Boston shouted. "I loved that kid. Everyone who ever met him loved that kid and it's my fault he's dead right now. I asked him to be here, I let a man I didn't know onto the property and then to ice the cake I punched his old man tonight when the guy was going crazy with grief. I'm an asshole. I know this. And up until now that's been alright with me. But this is something I can never make right. I can't bring Dick back but I can help you and maybe that's some kind of a start. "

Batman clenched and unclenched his fists several time while Brand spoke.

"Come on, Bruce. Let him help you," Dick whispered into the night.

"Let's go," Batman said without turning around, his voice thicker than usual.

Then he stopped and handed Brand the rifle, "First put this somewhere safe."

Nightwing watched him take the murder weapon to his trailer, "Aw Boston if I weren't dead I'd hug you."


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's note: Chapters 2 through 5 have been expanded and updated. Nothing has really been altered plot wise except for the end of chapter 5 so if anyone is still following this I'd recommend re-reading the previous chapter at least. **

"Boss I swear I didn't mean nothing by it. He said he'd give me two hundred bucks if I let him operate the booth tonight. You know how bad things have been lately. Call him off Boss, Please!"

Batman wasted no time on niceties. As soon as Brand led him to the small trailer where Jimmy 'Mac" Mackenzie called home he had kicked the door open and pulled the sleeping man from his bunk. "Who is the Hook?" He demanded holding Mac in the air by his shirt collar.

"Come on, Bruce. Take it easy. _He_ didn't kill me." Nightwing said in frustration. Not being able to interact with his mentor was killing him. "Boston do something."

"Whoa Bats put him down. He's not gonna talk if he's too scared to think," Brand coaxed.

Surprisingly Batman lowered the terrified man to the floor but he wasn't done yet.

"You think two hundred dollars is worth the life a young man?" Jimmy Mac stared into the cowl open mouthed like a man facing the devil. When his heart started beating again he tore his gaze away and entreated Brand.

"I didn't know I swear! I thought he had some kind of racket cooked up that he wanted to test out. I'm sorry Boss I'd never wanna rip you off but I guess I had it justified in my head. Did he really kill that kid?"

"Yes," Batman snarled and Jimmy Mac began to weep.

"Okay everybody calm down. Nobody's blaming you, Jimmy," Boston glare Batman gave himleft no room for doubt he most certainly did blame Jimmy Mac. "Look it don't even matter. We don't have to talk about that. I need you to tell me the guy's name Mac. Can you do that? The guy with the hook, what was his name?"

"He didn't tell me his name. All I got is an address."

"What address?" Batman was on him again in an instant.

"I was supposed to meet him after the show to collect.I didn't go," he cried throwing his arms up in front of himself protectively. "When I heard the boss sent him packing I just wrote it off. Considered myself lucky I still had my job. I promise I never seen him again."

Boston inserted himself between the trembling man and the seething bat. "I know you didn't Jimmy. It's ok but I need you to get me that address," he soothed.

"It's in the drawer," he pointed a shaking finger to a small chest of drawers in the corner.

Before Boston could move Batman yanked the entire drawer out and was fishing through its contents. He held up a scrap of paper and handed it to Brand.

"Is this it? Major Theatre Company 11 Old Harbor St," Boston handed the scrap to Jimmy Mac who nodded slowly and then gave a little shriek as Batman snatched it back and quickly left the trailer. Jimmy pulled his hand to his chest as though it had been burned.

"We'll talk later Jimmy," Boston told him before following Batman. Thinking he was alone Jimmy Mac finally allowed himself to faint, much to Nightwing's amusement.

"See you later Jimmy," he smirked.

Even though Nightwing no longer had a physical form his perception of his body as a solid living thing hadn't changed and confined closeness of the batmobile was still awkward as far as he was concerned.

"Can't you move over a little, Boston? I like you but I don't want to sit on your lap or anything."

The rest of the ride was silent. Even Nightwing could only talk for so long when no one answered him back. Batman was concentrating on driving. He was going to find the Hook and as long as that was the only thought in his mind he could cope with the situation. Boston Brand frequently suffered from car sickness and was simply trying to not puke on the dashboard.

_Made it,_ Boston thought with relief as the car smoothly pulled to a stop. They had parked in front of the loading dock to a dark building.

"Wait here Brand," Batman said.

"Hey but I-"

"_Wait here_." Batman's voice left no room for argument.

There was a service entrance with Major Theatre Company stenciled on it just to the left of the dock. As Batman picked the lock Nightwing approached him.

"Bruce if you want me to come with you, don't say anything." Batman cracked the lock and opened the door. "Okay let's go." Despite his joking he was worried. He had never seen the bat take over Bruce so completely.

Major Theatre Company Supply had shut down only about two years before but it could have been ten judging from the cobwebs. There was some old rigging equipment hanging from the ceiling and a crumpled velvet curtain lying on the floor. The only other thing the warehouse seemed to hold was silence.

Batman moved through the darkness easily using the night vision lenses in his cowl. Nightwing didn't know if his mask had night vision or he just believed it did. Either way the effect was the same and he moved just as easily.

He caught movement out the corner of his eye. It had appeared to him as though a section of the wall had…rippled somehow as they passed. He took a closer look and saw that the texture for about three feet was different. Someone had hung a black velvet curtain between two sections of the wall and in the dark it had blended in almost seamlessly.

"Batman look at this," Nightwing called excitedly before pulling the curtain down to reveal a small alcove.

He barely had time to wonder, _how'd I do that?_ Before the hook emerged firing two shots at Batman.

"Look out!" He called but Batman had already tucked and rolled to dodge the bullets. He took cover behind a folding table leaning on the other side of the wall. Nightwing smiled as he recognized an acrobatic he had taught Batman years before.

The Hook continued to fire and walk toward Batman's shelter. When there was no further movement he stopped shooting. Batman took the opportunity to swing the table into the Hook, knocking him down. The Hook dropped his weapon when he fell and a split second later Batman had him by the throat. He slashed wildly in the air with his hook trying to escape but found himself pinned to the wall, one gauntlet pressed against his neck and the other holding his left arm down at his side.

"Why?" Batman growled slamming the man back against the wall when he struggled.

"Why what? I didn't do anything."

"_**Why did you murder Dick Grayson**__?"_ Batman roared his grip tightening convulsively on the man's throat.

The Hook gurgled and shook his head. Batman relaxed his fingers slightly so he could speak.

"To…join…the League of Assassins."

"What?"Nightwing said watching the scene play out. He had been expecting a lot of things but not this.

Batman flexed his grip. The Hook began to sing.

"The price of membership was to…kill a high profile figure…in a public place…and get away with it."

"You failed," Batman said coldly while the Hook gasped. "What made you choose Grayson? An acrobat is hardly at the top of the list of 'high profile figures'."

"I picked him randomly from a circus poster. Him or Deadman. Didn't matter to me… whichever one was the easier shot. I figured I could get away clean. It wasn't like I was putting a hit on the mayor or someone. Who would care about some carny trash? I was aiming for Deadman anyway."

"Ooh you little shit, I shoulda beat the crap outta you when I had the chance," said Brand appearing beside Batman.

"I told you to wait in the car."

"Yeah? I'm not so good at taking orders, Bats. You gonna bring this freak in now? I'll be more than happy to testify to that confession."

"Don't worry about it, Brand. Go wait in the car," he said never taking his off the squirming crook.

Batman leaned in, his face so close to the Hook's that their noses were almost touching. His voice lowered to a whisper and he looked into the killers eyes, "You killed a gifted, heroic young man and for what? Do you really think the League of Assassins would ever accept a cheap hood like you? I want you to know just how stupid and pathetic you are before you die. Your whole plan was a miserable failure from the start. You would have been safer trying for the mayor. You led yourself to ruin the moment you laid eyes on Dick Grayson. He was my son. "

The Hook had time for one last gasp before Batman began to apply more pressure to his throat.

Nightwing listened in fascination to Batman's had wanted to hear his whole life. He wished he could have heard them while he was still alive.

He didn't have time to reflect however because the Hook's face was turning purple and his eyes began to bulge.

"Bruce what are you doing?" Nightwing shouted.

"Bats! Batman, stop! Your going to kill him." Brand shouted trying to pry Batman's fingers open.

_Come on Bruce don't do this,_ Nightwing thought reaching out to his father both physically and mentally. _Not because of me._


	7. Chapter 7

Nightwing struggled with his conflicting emotions. He had waited most of his life to hear the words Batman had just said. _Dick Grayson was my son. _Thinking about it still brought a warm flush of happiness but he didn't have time for that right now. Batman was about to break their most sacred ideal.

His father was going to kill his murderer. And he could not do anything about it.

"Bruce!" he cried, reaching out not just with his arms but with all the overwhelming feelings in his soul. Love, frustration, fear, anger, sympathy, sadness. The world began to blur, his vision suddenly taking on a weird kind of doubling effect. Nightwing closed his eyes.

When he opened them again he was holding the hook by the throat. Startled he let go and stared at his hands in shock. Not his hands. Batman's hands.

Nightwing was inside Batman's body.

Before he could even start to process this new turn of events Boston Brand tackled him to the ground.

"Sorry Batman," Boston said curling his fist, "I really hope you'll thank me later."

Nightwing literally saw stars for a full minute after Boston punched him.

"Boston, get off me you dumbass!"

"You can't kill him even if he is a scumbag – wait. Did you just call me a dumbass?"

"I won't kill him. Now get off me!"

As the two men climbed to their feet Nightwing's brain was already ticking off possible explanations. He realized that Boston would probably not believe him if he tried to explain everything now. Besides the priority right now was to get the Hook safely into police custody and away from Batman.

Boston was eyeing him warily.

"It's okay Bost- uh…Brand," Nightwing rasped in his best Batman imitation. "I'm fine now. Just a momentary loss of…of…Oh fuck it. I can't do this. How does he talk like that all the time? My throat is killing me and I'm already dead."

Boston was backing away slowly but still on his guard. Clearly Batman was more than a few fries short of a happy meal but something else was going on. He didn't want to be around if the bat was going to completely loose it.

"Sorry. Boston look, it's me. Dick. Dick Grayson. Don't look at me like that Boston. Let's just keep calm and we can talk."

"Yeah sure whatever you say Bats. I'm just gonna- Batman! Look out!"

The Hook had recovered both his breath and his gun while Nightwing and Boston were distracted.

He fired his remaining bullets at what he thought was Batman. Nightwing was able to dodge each shot through a series of acrobatic maneuvers. It wasn't easy considering Batman's larger frame, not to mention the addition of the cape, but somehow he pulled it off.

Nightwing landed on his feet just in time to see the Hook fleeing the scene. Boston was already on his tail and had no trouble catching up. One knockout punch later and the Hook was down for the count.

Nightwing found the pouch where Batman kept his zip ties and handed some to Boston, "Nice work. You do this before?"

"Nah," Boston said staring down at his feet. "So those moves you just did? Did Dick teach you those? I mean look, I heard what you said about Dick being your son. I was gonna pretend I didn't but I did. So that's where you learned the flips and shit, right."

Nightwing sighed. "No. Boston I told you, I am Dick. I know it's hard to believe but somehow I was able to possess Batman a few minutes ago. I had to stop him before he…well somehow I jumped into his body and well…." He tailed off. Boston would believe him or he wouldn't.

"Okay the only two men I know who coulda pulled that trick off are both dead so I guess I hafta believe you," Boston said rubbing the back of his neck. "You ain't claiming to be Johnny Grayson so I you must be Dick. So what happens now?"

Nightwing wasn't sure he knew the answer to that one. Rama Kushna had told him to help bring his killer to justice and he had done that. But he still didn't think he could ask Boston to die for him. Whatever crazy plans the goddess had it just didn't seem right.

"Boston you and I have a lot of things to a talk about."

"What kind of things?"

"Well before we get into that I want to ask you a favor."

"No fucking way kid. I love ya. I really do but there's no way I'm letting hop inside of me like I'm a new suit."

"Boston I need to talk to Batman. You said you heard it when he called me his son? Well it's true. John Grayson will always be my dad but Bat-Bruce is too. When they were murdered he helped me bring Zucco to justice. And when I couldn't be with the circus anymore he gave me a way to keep flying. It's the only way , Boston and I don't know if I'll get another chance."

Boston tried not to see Dick's pleading face behind the cowl but he couldn't help it.

"Alright. Fine. Look just don't go poking around while you're in there, okay kid?"

"What does that even mean you big creep?" Nightwing couldn't help laughing.

"Just do it before I change my mind."

It was easier the second time although Nightwing still felt that unpleasant doubling sensation. A moment later he was looking at Batman who was holding the side of his head.

"Are you okay?" Nightwing said in Boston's voice as he went to Batman's side.

"Yes," Batman said staring at him strangely.

"Good because I need you to listen to me carefully. I know you're going to have a hard time believing me right now but I'm sure that there is some way I can use logic to get you to accept it. So let's start cause I have a feeling this might take a while. I'm not Boston Brand I'm…"

"Dick?"

"Really? Bruce you can't be serious. I know you're the world's greatest detective but how could…you couldn't possibly…How do you know it's me?"

Batman walked to Nightwing until they were standing face to face. He put both hands on Brand's shoulders as he looked into Dick Grayson's eyes, "I know you, son."


	8. Chapter 8

**Happy Thursday! My daughter's sleeping at her old Granny's tonight so I actually have time to post two chapters.**

"That's the second time you've called me your son," Nightwing said softly.

"It's true," Batman said giving his, well Boston Brand's shoulders a squeeze. "Isn't it?"

Nightwing nodded not trusting his ability to speak. This was one of the biggest moments in his existence, alive or dead.

So of course he had to piss all over it.

He stepped back out of the bat's reach. He had to look away before asking, "Why couldn't you have said it when I was still alive?"

Batman inhaled sharply and drew himself up to his full height. Then he turned away. He leaned on a dusty wooden countertop head down. "I should have," he said. "I'm sorry."

"No Bruce, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. I don't know why I…"

"I know why you said it,Dick. It's because I was…afraid."

"Of what? Don'tgive me that old spiel about dishonoring the memory of my parents. Tell me the truth. What could you possibly have had to fear from me?"

"Not from you, Dick. For you."

Batman sighed and turned to face Nightwing again, "I was afraid that if I showed…that if I revealed what the most important thing in the world was to me that I would lose it. That I would lose you. I let myself believe if I kept my feelings hidden you would stay then you were…gone. And it didn't matter anymore because you had been taken from me anyway."

"Bruce,I…"

"I let myself believe that you already knew. That was one more excuse I gave myself. I didn't realize I had kept my secret too well. I'm sorry."

"I did know, Bruce. I just…felt like I needed to hear it to make it really true."

Batman grasped his arm, "It has always been are my son, Dick. You mean more to me that anything in this world. I will never keep that from you again. Now we have to figure out how to get you back to normal."

"Well, I mean…I am still dead Bruce. I don't know what we can really do about that. I mean there might be something but I…Look there was this goddess and she said…I mean she said she was a goddess and she had this weird skin like…"

"Nightwing, report!"

_Business as usual already?_ Nightwing thought but found that he was able to relax into their familiar roles and recite the facts.

"Immediately following my death I found myself in another kind of reality called the Infinite. There was a woman with meta-like powers named Rama Kushna there. She claimed to be a goddess and told me that I had not been fated to die yet and she was sending me back to bring my murderer to justice. When I arrived back in our world I was incorporeal. I didn't discover I could possess the living until a few moments ago.

"And."

"What do you mean and?"

"You're not telling me everything Dick."

_Oh yeah. World's Greatest Detective_, Nightwing thought a little sourly this time. _Fine._ _"And _it was Boston Brand who was supposed to die. If he agrees of his own free will to die in my place then things will go back to normal. Except Boston will die and it will be my fault."

"I need to speak with Brand now."

"Bruce I can't ask him to die for me."

"It sounds to me like _you_ died for _him_. Now let me speak with Brand."

"No."

"**I'm not asking**", Batman growled suddenly grabbing the boy again and shaking him. Nightwing swung his arms to escape from Batman's grip and pushed him away.

"No, Batman never says please does he? What are you going to do if he says no? Strangle him to death," Nightwing regretted his choice of words almost as soon as they were out of his mouth. No one could infuriate him like Bruce. No one loved him like his father.

"No Dick. I can offer myself instead," Batman said quietly.

"_What_? I don't think it works that way and besides... I won't let you do that either."

"I'm not asking," Batman said, this time with a small smile. "Listen Dick you said Boston has to agree of his own free will. Even I can't control someone's free will."

"Never stopped you before," Nightwing said with a smile of his own.

"But if this Rama Kushna is telling the truth Brand deserves to know he has a choice. If he is really your friend you can't keep this from him."

Nightwing hung his head, "Your right. It's just hard for me to…"

"I'll talk to him," Batman held up a hand when Nightwing started to interrupt. "I know you can handle it. Just let me do this for you son…Please?"

Nightwing was sure his heart had stopped even if he was dead. He took a deep breath. He had absolutely no choice in the matter now. Batman had actually said please.

"Okay. I'll still be here after, you know. So whatever happens I can come back to say…goodbye."

"You won't have to," Batman said turning away. He couldn't bear to see the boy he had raised disappear again.

A moment later he found his voice, "Brand?"

"Batman?" He turned toward the unfamiliar voice. Boston Brand was back.

"I have a few things I need to discuss with you. Dick has a message for you… from the goddess Rama Kushna."

Nightwing was watching the exchange anxiously. Right up until Batman said her name. Then for the third time since he had fallen from the trapeze he felt the darkness sweeping him away.

Nightwing opened his eyes.

"Welcome back, Nightwing," Rama Kushna said. He was in the infinite.

"Wait! I didn't get to say goodbye! You have to send me back again. Just once more. I can't just be gone. I told him I would still be there to say goodbye," Nightwing begged the goddess desperately but he couldn't find any sympathy in her golden eyes. She looked almost happy.

_Bruce I'm so sorry. I thought we still had time._


	9. Chapter 9

"_Rama Kushna_? Hold the phone. Dick _and_ Rama Kushna? This has become way too much. I think it might be time for me to check out of this little adventure," Boston said putting his hands up and backing away.

Batman regarded him stonily_, You're the one that wanted to come_.

"Does that name mean something to you?"

Brand folded his arms across his chest and looked away. "Yeah it means something to me. I had a…friend, Vashnu. He told me something about a goddess named Rama Kushna….a long time ago."

Batman didn't speak, just lifted his chin slightly to indicate Brand should continue.

Boston sighed_, I'm never getting off this merry go round until I've taken the full ride_.

"I met Vashnu years ago, when I was still with Haley's. He was what you'd call a seer. Fortune Telling's illegal in most states but it's all red tape and bullshit. There's plenty of ways around it. So we called him a character analyst and we were good to never went in for that palm reading stuff anyway. He'd say he could see everything he needed know about someone in their eyes. It's all in the eyes Boston. And he was good at reading people. Sometimes he'd help Pop Haley interview the locals, ya know if we needed a couple guys to help the crew. He could figure out which ones were safe and who to stay away from just by looking at 'em. Don't get me wrong, I don't believe he really had the sight…At least I don't think I do. Who knows after the shit I've seen tonight."

Batman snorted in agreement.

"Anyways the point is Vashnu believed it. He used to tell me things. I let him talk cause I knew he really thought he was helping me ya know? He was a little guy, harmless. No point in making enemies by talking some guy down just cause you can."

"What did he tell you?" Batman asked growing impatient.

Boston looked up at the Dark Knight, "He said I was a favorite of the goddess Rama Kushna. That she had a gift for me and one day when I least expected it…boom, special delivery. As far as I know I never got any gift but hey it's the thought that counts right?"

"It would seem that your friend Vashnu did see something," Batman said. This time Brand made the gesture, _go on._

Batman filled him in on the facts just as Dick had told him. It was a monumental effort not to try to influence Brand through aggression or guilt. But he was able to do it knowing his son was watching him.

Brand's face had gone as white as his Deadman mask, "I should be dead."

"Yes," Batman answered.

"And instead the kid…Shit." Boston got up and threw a punch at the wall. "Look if I could have jumped in front of that bullet and saved Dick I would have. But sitting here talking about it. And I'm still alive. Look, it's a shitty world but that don't mean I'm ready to leave it yet."

Boston's head snapped up as a new thought occurred to him.

"And what about the circus? I promised Mikey Hill on his deathbed that I would take care of those people. They need me. I can't just abandon them."

Suddenly the Hook moaned and began to struggle with his bonds.

"Almost forgot about you," Boston said grabbing a discarded pulley from the floor. He struck the Hook on the side of the head with the heavy wooden spool and the man stopped moving. "Nap time ain't over yet shithead."

Boston looked up to find Batman staring at him.

"What? He'll be fine. A little headache is the least of what he deserves."

"I would have killed him, "Batman said quietly. If Dick hadn't stopped me, I would have killed him. I won't now. I know that's the last thing Dick would want me to do. But if he's gone again…How long before I forget?"

"I won't lie Brand. I want him back. I want him back for all my own selfish reasons. But Dick has touched so many lives. There are so many people that need him. I know I'm lost without that light to guide me but…this whole world is a much darker place without him."

Boston considered Batman's words_. Would anyone mourn me so eloquently if I agree,_ he wondered.

"I can promise you one thing, Brand. If…anything should happen to you, the circus will be taken care of. You must know who I am now. Even if you don't like it I do have the resources to make sure that Hills bros. Circus flourishes."

Boston rubbed the back of his neck, "That would be good to know at least. There is one question I'd like to ask Dick before I make up my mind."

"What's that?"

"This Rama Kushna chick. Is she hot?"

"Yes, of course," Rama Kushna answered.

_It can't be that easy,_ Nightwing thought in surprise_._ "You'll let me say goodbye?"

He was back in the infinite floating through the twilight with Rama Kushna beside him. _I must be getting used to being a ghost. Maybe that's why I don't need the illusion of the rock anymore. Seem to be getting a handle on this metaphysical stuff too._

"That will not be necessary, Nightwing. I am bringing you back."

"Back? Like I can go back home and be alive and everything?"

"Yes," she smiled at him sweetly. The goddesses face was always changing but this time the emotion behind it did seem sincere.

"What about Boston?"

"My Champion has accepted his destiny. You must do one more thing for me. I am taking you back to the moment just before your path was misdirected. You must be a witness to Boston Brand's death. It is the only way. Do not grieve, he will soon be on his way to glory. And your paths will cross again someday, when my champion walks among the living".

Turning Nightwing saw her face had suddenly clouded with anger.

"And do not presume to feel guilt. There are greater forces at work here than you, Nightwing," she said.

The goddess glance upward as though she had heard something. She nodded to herself and seemed to hurry him along_. At least she doesn't look pissed off anymore_.

"We are almost there and I still have much to say to you. You will most likely forget that you once died. The human mind cannot comprehend the backwards movements of time only the forward. However should you somehow retain your memories of me or the infinite you will take care to speak to no one of them. As much as you talk I do believe you understand the importance of silence as well. I can trust you to keep my secrets, Nightwing?"

"Yes," he answered truthfully and then turned away. He didn't want to appear ungrateful. _She'd probably make me the Eternal Janitor of the Infinite if I did_,he thought_. But if I forget that …I'll forget everything Bruce said. I'll forget he called me son. He'll forget too._

"We are here," Rama Kushna said smiling at him again.

_It looks exactly the same as the rest of this place but okay_, Nightwing thought.

"Do not worry, Nightwing. I still have a small gift for you for I do not wish your unhappiness. You are much blessed by the gods. Beware, for to earn the gods blessings a mortal must conquer much adversity. But your path is true and conquer you shall. Go now my hero," and she kissed him gently on the forehead.

"Goodbye goddess," he said.

He waited for the darkness but this it did not come. Instead the twinkling stars that filled the infinite began to grow. The bigger they got the brighter they shone until Nightwing was completely blinded by their beauty. He let their light and warmth wash over him. The last thing he was aware of was a voice growing fainter and fainter as it called "Goodbye."


	10. Chapter 10

"Ladies and Gentlemen, boys and girls, please direct your eyes skyward…" The voice of the ringmaster startled Dick Grayson back to reality.

_Whoa Grayson, get with it,_ he chided himself_. Lack of concentration can get you killed up here_. He smiled as he realized that particular piece of advice had been pressed upon him repeatedly by _both_ his fathers.

Dick grasped the bar with one hand and got ready for his cue.

Okay. Now

Just before he stepped out into the air something in the crowd caught his eye. _Does that guy have a_ _hook for a hand? __**And **__a gun? Nah, must be seeing things_. Then he let all his thoughts fly away so that his muscles and gravity could do their job without waiting for his brain to catch up. He was dimly aware of a blur of red rushing toward him as he began to spin and spin and spin on a cushion of air.

_**BANG**_

What the hell was that? He wondered as he straightened his body and reached for the bar swinging toward him. His hands slapped the wood as they made contact and once his grip was secure he looked back over his shoulder.

_Where was Boston?_

He heard a scream from the audience. Then more screams as he arched his body and swung onto the platform in front of him. Looking down Dick saw a familiar red costume lying on the ground far below.

_Oh no, no, no! Not again. Not this._

Dick wasn't aware of anything while climbing down from his perch. . The next thing he was conscious of was holding Boston's bleeding body almost the same way he had held his parents years ago.

"Boston? Boston, hang in there big guy. I got you."

Boston Brand opened one eye and smiled at Dick Grayson.

"I'll get him, Boston. I swear it. I'll get the guy that did this to you," Dick whispered. He was suddenly aware that Bruce was kneeling behind him and had placed his hands on Dick's shoulders.

"…know…you…will…kid," Boston gasped. Dick felt one more breath and then no more.

Boston Brand had passed on.

Dick placed the body gently down to the ground. He crossed Boston's arms and leaned back against Bruce.

Bruce let his arm drop from the Dick's shoulders to his forearms where they squeezed gently once. Then he crossed them around the boy's chest and held him while Dick Grayson cried for his lost friend.

Batman knew that having a personal stake in a case could sometimes be an asset but it was almost eerie how quickly Nightwing was able to solve this one. The boy had learned well. Still something was different and not just because of Brand or the circus. But he did not want to dwell on it. Dick was strong, he would go on.

The one thing that had rattled him was the Hook's confession. He had admitted to choosing Brand at random from a poster. A poster featuring both Brand _and_ Dick.

"_Didn't matter to me. Whichever one was the easier shot." _

No one would ever know that this small time criminal had frightened Batman more than anything he had ever encountered in this dark troubled city.

The sooner this was in the past the better.

Bruce Wayne's subconscious however didn't seem to want to let it go. The night following Boston Brand's murder he had a dream…_a nightmare_ that it had been Dick who had been shot. Over and over he watch the boy fall from the trapeze, bleeding from a bullet wound while he was helpless to do anything. Then he would awaken in his room and still believe that it was true. That Dick had been the one who died and he was alone in the dark.

He thought the dreams might stop once the case was wrapped up. He was wrong.

Vincent Baker aka The Hook was convicted of the murder of Boston Brand after Dick Grayson testified to seeing the suspect at the crime scene with the murder weapon.

It was an emotional day for Dick and he was surprised but pleased when Bruce had asked him to spend the night at the manor. Surprised because Bruce was even broodier than usual and Dick didn't think he had noticed how hard this one had hit him. Pleased because he needed comforting and it would be good to be home.

They didn't patrol that night, another surprise, but sat quietly together in Bruce's study. Dick figured that this was probably as much comfort as he was going to get_. But I'll take it,_ he thought drowsily. And it was comforting to be here with Bruce nearby…Dick fell asleep on the sofa, snoring lightly.

Bruce allowed himself a moment to take in the young man's sleeping face before turning away and staring into the fire. _This one was close. So close_, he thought pensively. _I told him it was a bad idea. Dick_ _how can I protect you if you won't listen. _

Bruce yawned. There was absolutely no reason for him to be tired. He was well rested. He had been fully functional after losing days of sleep many times before. Frowning Bruce decided maybe he would patrol tonight after all. In one minute he would get up and… Two minutes later he was unconscious and at the mercy of his dreams.

They were worse.

He held Dick in his arms but the boy didn't move. He was dead. All around him the lights in the circus tent began to go out one by one until he was in darkness. He held Dick's body close as sobs wracked his own when suddenly Dick vanished. He was alone in the dark with grief.

Suddenly a woman with long black hair and blue skin was standing before him.

"Bruce Wayne," she cried pointing at him in disgust. "You have been granted a second chance to be with your son and yet you waste it? Perhaps I will take him from you yet. Better he should die again and be of service to the goddess, Rama Kushna, than to waste his life with a man so utterly unworthy of his devotion."

As the goddess berated him Bruce realized he was dressed as Batman. What was happening? Where was Dick? What was this woman saying…Take him? Take Dick away from him again?

"No," he roared ripping the cowl off and confronting the goddess face to face. "You will not take him away from me. Do you hear me? ** YOU WILL **_**NOT**_** TAKE MY SON!"**


	11. Chapter 11

**Here we are last chapter. Special thanks to Callypse for the great advice. Thank you to everyone who commented on and followed the story. Hope you enjoyed the ride. I did. **

"_**YOU WILL NOT TAKE MY SON!"**_ Bruce Wayne roared thrashing hi in the arm chair he had fallen asleep in.

"Bruce, wake up. Bruce! Come on, wake up. It's just a dream."

Bruce opened his eyes to see Dick standing over him, shaking his arm and looking at him like he had ten heads.

"Dick," he shouted startling the young man again. He bolted to his feet and grabbed him by the arms. "Thank God…Oh Thank God."

"Bruce are you okay? You're shaking me!"

"I'm sorry," he said releasing him. Then he just stood there staring as if he were afraid Dick was going to vanish any moment.

"Bad dream?" Dick asked curiously.

"Yes," Bruce nodded emphatically.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No!"

"Oh…okay. Do you want me to leave you alone then? I can go-"

"No," Bruce almost leapt in front of the boy as he turned to go. "No. Stay here! I want to talk to you Dick. I just don't want to talk about that," and he shuddered remembering the more vivid aspects of his nightmare.

"Okay. Let's sit down. Are you sure you're okay." He said taking Bruce's arm and guiding him to the sofa.

"I'm okay. I just need a moment."

"You were uh…shouting some pretty strange things in your sleep."

Bruce looked at him, "What did I say?"

"Well first you yelled my name and scared the shit out of me because I was asleep right here. Then you said…I thought I heard… You said 'You won't take my son away'."

Bruce nodded, "That _is_ what I said."

Although he was blushing to the roots of his hair Dick had to ask, "Did you mean…Were you talking about me?"

"I was dreaming that it was you who died at the circus instead of Boston Brand."

"Oh. Well uh…I'm right here Bruce. I'm okay," Dick said feeling both awkward and supremely happy. He found himself looking all around the room as if this were the first time he had seen Bruce's study. He couldn't help it. He was afraid if he looked at Bruce it would break the spell and he would stop talking. He wanted him to keep talking more than anything.

" Look at me," Bruce said gently but firmly. He waited until Dick made eye contact before continuing. "There are many things I should have said to you over the years. Things I didn't say because I was afraid. I held back and hurt you because I was afraid of being hurt myself and that was wrong. I'm sorry."

"Bruce you don't have to-"

"I do have to. So please son, just listen.

_He said please_, Dick thought in shock._ Am I dreaming_? He managed to nod his head once.

"We can talk more about all of this later. I hope we get the chance to talk about it many times. But right now there is just one very important thing I have to tell you."

He placed his hand at the back of the young man's neck and drew him closer until their foreheads were touching. Hoarsely he whispered the words Dick would never forget his whole long life.

"Dick Grayson, you are my son, my pride and my legacy. You are the most important thing in the world to me and if I ever really lost you I don't think I could bear to go on. I love you, son. "

Dick had never dreamed that Bruce would ever really be able to say these things to him. And yet the words were strangely familiar. In his heart he had always known Bruce cared about him…loved him in his way. But to actually hear him say it was a gift he would treasure always.

"I love you too" he said choking on the words but no longer feeling awkward.

They stayed together like that for a long time.

Then Bruce took Dick's face in his hands and lightly slapped one cheek, "Get some rest. We'll both still be here in the morning."

"Okay," Dick said softly getting up from the sofa. Bruce stood up and placing his hands on his son's shoulders gave him a gentle shove toward the door.

Alfred chose that moment to make his appearance.

"Had I known you two were planning a slumber party in here I would have taken the liberty to prepare your sleeping bags and a light snack."

Dick chuckled, "Just going to bed now, Alfred. " He walked past the butler smiling and wiping his eyes. He stopped when he reached the hallway, ran back and grabbed Alfred, lifting the man off his feet in a bear hug.

"Goodnight Bruce" he said placing the valet back on his feet and disappearing back down the hallway.

"Well Master Dick finally seems to be recovering from his unpleasant ordeal at the circus. More so tonight than I've seen all week," Alfred said raising an eyebrow at Bruce.

"We could have lost him, Alfred."

"I am aware of that, sir and knowing your overprotective nature can become somewhat…shall we say smothering after such an event I do hope you won't dwell on it. If that will be all sir," Alfred turned to leave but paused a moment as he looked in the direction the smiling young man had just gone.

"Then again perhaps it would be best to keep the incident in mind lest we forget to count our blessings."

"I won't forget Alfred," Bruce said following the old man out of the room. "I won't forget ever again."

He closed the door to his study leaving Boston Brand alone in the room.

"Better not Wayne," Deadman said smiling. "I'll be watching you."


End file.
